If The Stars Align
by TheFifthBiscuit
Summary: A short 8th Year Dramione. Both struggling with the aftermath of the Battle Of Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione find common ground. Not yet complete. Possible triggers: anxiety, panic, ptsd
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Wrote this as a Oneshot for the Wordsmiths and Betas contest undee the title "Cold Comfort" but I thought of a better title since then. There's a second half for this in the pipeline that will be posted as the next chapter, so it's actually a two-shot I guess?

Possible triggers for anxiety, panic and ptsd

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"Granger, what the flying fuck are you doing?"

The words flew out of Draco's mouth before he knew what he was saying, pure shock at the sight of Hermione Granger hovering cross-legged near the ceiling of the Great Hall with her wand out and a huge book nestled on her lap squeezing the exclamation out of him in possibly the longest sentence he'd spoken to another human since returning to Hogwarts to finish his NEWTs.

Startled, the bushy-haired girl _wobbled_ for a moment as she turned towards his voice. Draco's stomach lurched and he damn near vomited on the spot. He'd had no head for heights ever since sixth year.

"Trying to decipher the workings of a 1000 year old enchantment so I can repair this gaping hole in the sky if you _must_ know, Malfoy." Granger huffed, but he got the impression she was more annoyed with her lack of progress than him, somehow.

Either way he was clearly not wanted there, and he wasn't sure why he should _want_ to be there since he'd spent the last two weeks avoiding his fellow pupils as much as he could. All thing considered Granger was probably the last person he should be around, and yet he hesitated.

"Did… did you seriously _wingardium leviosa_ yourself up there?"

"What if I did?" Granger asked distractedly, peering up at the jagged black rip through the cloudless dusk outside and making notes with her left hand while she kept her wand trained firmly downwards, holding her up.

"Oh, nothing," Draco said, his mouth rushing ahead of him again, unable to resist a catty remark. "I just thought you were actually smart, that's all."

"Go away, Malfoy."

"Only if you stop being a bloody idiot and _come down_." Draco wasn't sure who or what he was anymore, but he didn't think he wanted to be someone who left people hovering irresponsibly at great heights without at least attempting to talk them down. "You're not going to be fixing anything if you fall from up there Granger, and I have no desire to see any- any more-"

The word _**bodies**_ fell silent between them and Draco was sure he actually would be sick that time, everything he'd done and hadn't done rising up inside him like bile, but the sight of Granger actually listening to him and drifting back to the ground in a beautifully controlled descent stopped the rushing in his ears.

"Wow," he said, awed at the skill that must have taken. Granger hugged the huge book she carried to her chest and Draco had a fleeting thought of how much she would love the library back at Malfoy Manor. He imagined her drifting gracefully along the tallest shelves in search of a volume, absorbed in thought like she had been when he'd walked in.

Of course, many of the books on the upper shelves would bite her arm off as soon as they got a whiff of her tainted blood, but until then she probably would love it. And she was a Gryffindor after all; she might even be more impressed with a room full of _dangerous_ books. Not that Draco had any interest in impressing her. Not that she impressed him.

"What do you want?" she asked, not even sounding annoyed, or angry to see him. Just tired. Draco noticed for the first time just how drained she looked, and when her brown eyes searched his grey he thought he felt an acknowledgement pass between them. Both of them had seen too much. There was too much to be said and he didn't know where to even begin. _I'm sorry_ didn't cover the barest fraction of it. He dropped his eyes, focusing instead on the book in her arms.

"Is that… _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"You've read it?" Granger actually looked shocked. Draco was scandalised.

" _Have I read it?_ In first year there was an actual _troll_ loose in the dungeons. Crabbe-" his voice became almost a croak on the name and he took a second to get hold of himself. "-him and Goyle were messing about playfighting on that staircase behind the tapestry on the second floor, and he spent an hour sunk into the trick step head first. In second year a gigantic _basilisk_ was slithering through our plumbing petrifying people-" _and Draco had been a complete idiot back then too, of course_ "…Who wouldn't find out everything they can about the castle?"

Granger seemed surprised and maybe even… impressed? "Harry and Ron never would." she said. Draco gawped.

"Seriously? Does Potter have no self-preservation instincts at all? How did he even make it through seven years here to defeat the Dark Lo- Voldemort?" he shivered at the name, and all the memories and guilt and self-loathing that came with it. The blind terror of realising just how wrong he'd gotten everything when he was in far, far too deep to get out. He almost couldn't breathe, standing there talking to _her_ of all people when he'd known what his aunt was capable of and been too scared to- He forced himself to breathe, to paint a small, wry smile on his face. "I mean, I grew up in a manor full of dark artefacts and even _I_ think this castle is full of crazy shit."

Granger actually laughed. Only a little, but Draco didn't even remember the last time he'd been able to crack a joke and have someone laugh.

"Well, Harry had his own… help finding his way around the castle." she said hesitantly, a little smile on her face. Draco had never seen her smile up close before, never noticed the dimple in her cheek when she did. He felt something flutter for a second and was suddenly pretty sure that even after everything, he had never been as much of an idiot as he was right there and then. This was probably some sort of punishment from a higher power. He absolutely _could not_ fancy Granger. He forced himself to break the silence that was hinging on uncomfortable.

"I bloody knew he was cheating." he said.

Granger blinked at him, puzzled, smile fading.

"Cheating at what?"

"At life of course." Draco said, gesturing expansively. It was completely stupid, but he wanted to hear that laugh again. "Either that or his blood is made of _felix felicis_."

His efforts were rewarded with a startled giggle, but a troubled look soon followed, as if she were worried she had betrayed something somehow. He took out his wand and conjured two chairs and a table for that boulder of a book. The new Draco Malfoy wasn't someone who left people worrying alone at impossible problems either. He sat and ushered for her to do the same. Granger laid her book down reverentially on the table, and lowered herself into the chair.

"I have to ask, Granger…" he said. "McGonagall, Flitwick, and basically every other teacher in the school have tried and failed to repair whatever charm the founders cast on this ceiling. So why on Earth have you decided to take it upon yourself to fix it?"

It must have been pure shock at his directness that broke through her barriers. He couldn't imagine why else she would open up to him of all people.

"I just… wanted to be able to fix _something_. " she said, head bowed, shoulders slumped.

"Oh," Draco reached out a hand to rest on hers and by some miracle it wasn't shaken away. "They didn't come back, Potter and Weasley."

She shook her head. "No, and they're hurting so much and I tried all summer but I just don't know how to help, I-" she sobbed suddenly, tears springing from her eyes. Draco had no idea how to comfort her and he knew it wouldn't be welcome anyway, so he stuck to the matter at hand.

"So you chose the near impossible task that everyone before you has failed at?" he asked. She only shrugged. He let go of her hand and folded his arms. Maybe he wasn't the right person to help her at all, but it seemed like maybe, right now, he was the only person. "It sounds to me like you don't _want_ to succeed. Like you're punishing yourself."

"You don't know me," she said quietly, but there was no anger in her voice, only shock. He'd hit home, then. He'd always been perceptive, maybe he could start putting it to different use.

"I don't." he agreed, "But I do have extensive experience of trying to fix the impossible." That cabinet had nearly killed him, and some days he wished it had.

Granger was looking at him like she'd never seen him before. Her eyes said _what are you?_ and the thumping in his chest said _I don't know._ It was a long time before she spoke.

"You never eat in the Great Hall. Or speak in lessons unless you have to. I overheard Pansy Parkinson say you only go to your Common Room to sleep."

"I've been talking to the house elves a bit," he admitted. "I go to the kitchens for food." Draco swallowed, hard. She was perceptive too, and maybe he owed her some truth. "I saw one of my best friends… die horribly," he said, "and he deserved it. But… _I_ deserved it too, and I was saved by my worst enemy."

He received the greatest shock of his life when his face was suddenly enveloped in curly brown hair, and two arms wrapped around him.

"Then you just have to _earn_ it, Draco." she whispered in his ear, after everything he'd ever done and said. He choked back a sob himself. Potter's mercy had only broken him more, but he felt like her forgiveness might actually fix something in him, if he could only make himself worthy of it. He pushed her off him gently, then rolled up his sleeves.

"Ok, show me your notes and we'll work out what to try next." he said.

"But you don't think it can be done."

"Well, Granger- _Hermione._ It seems to me that lost causes are something of a specialty of mine."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So this chapter has run away with me a little bit. I wasn't expecting it to happen quite like this but it works with the ending I have in mind. Ohhh the angst, though! Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that THIS IS NOT THE ENDING. I am estimating that it's going to take another chapter, maybe two, to finish up the story I want to tell here. :)

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"I think it's looking promising." Hermione confided one evening a few weeks later, as they compared star charts. Draco murmured his agreement, leaning over to circle Venus' position on her chart. They were tracking the movement of the stars in the Great Hall as compared to outside, to look for less obvious signs of damage.

"Mm, only a couple of degrees shift." he said, leaning back on his arms to look up at the sky, grass tickling between his fingertips. His legs stretched out before him, one ankle crossed over the other. Hermione sat primly to his left, legs tucked underneath her and to the side.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. He turned to her with a quizzical expression, and she raised an eyebrow. "I'm a quick study, Draco. I know that tone. That's exactly the face you pulled when you told me it would 'probably be fine' if we used the Slytherin Common Room to study. Daphne Greengrass was still giving me daggers at breakfast this morning."

"She's just like that before she has her pumpkin juice." he deadpanned, and she flicked ink on his face with her quill.

"I'm _serious_. You don't think it can be done, do you?"

He hesitated, but he knew she wouldn't stop until she got to the bottom of it. This girl was relentless, and he found he had more respect for her every day. Respected her enough to give her the truth. Delicately, of course.

"I'm not saying it definitely can't," he said "But…." he gestured towards the circled planets and stars that were out of place on Hermione's chart of the Great Hall. "The damage is more than just the rip, and we haven't been able to find much about spell repair."

Hermione had combed through the entire restricted section by herself; a condition of Draco's suspended sentence after the Battle had been a 5 year ban on 'accessing dark or dangerous texts and artefacts' and a charm would detect if he touched any dark artifact or any of a long list of books, including the entire restricted section. Studying for his NEWTs had become a dangerous practice; one wrong turn of a page could see him sent to Azkaban. Professor McGonagall herself had strongly advised against him completing them, but she had stopped short of turning him away.

"I've… had a little luck with that actually," Hermione said, looking troubled. She took a slip of paper out of the pocket of her robes, and Draco shook his head as he read the notes she'd made.

"Why didn't you say?" when she wouldn't meet his eyes her took her chin in hand, turning her to face him. "Hey, be honest with me." he implored her. "I've been honest with you."

Her eyes were wide and startled. Even with all the time they had spent together over the past few weeks, even with that first hug on that day in the Great Hall, they had very rarely touched. Draco felt tense, like he was in a moment of perfect balance and to move too much either way could mean disaster. He licked his lips, tried to swallow. Tried to remember to breathe, and to absolutely not let his eyes dart down to her lips. Was he staring, had he held her there too long? Should he let go?

"If it's a charm and not an enchantment then that's it, it's over." she murmured, seeming almost afraid to speak it outloud. Draco felt the vibrations of her voice on his finger tips, the sheer intimacy of _feeling_ her speak making his pulse race and his heart hammer in his chest, a fight or flight response taking hold. He needed to run to the castle and never look back. He needed to know the taste of her, the melding of their mouths, the exact texture of her lips.

She would never want that though; the more he got to know her the more he admired her, and the more certain he became that his black little soul could never match up. It was painful at those rare times she was happy and free, absorbed in a book or laughing at a joke, to remember that she might not have been there at all because of his inability to act, back at Malfoy Manor. He was doing what he could, now, but he knew that with everything that lay in their past he could only hope to be able to be a friend to her.

"But if it's the enchantment we can repair it, and even if it is the charm we might be able to remove it and try to recast it." he said, finally remembering to let her chin slip out of his grasp. Instead of retreating though she stayed where she was, watching him inscrutably.

"So you're saying we need to take a chance?" she asked, and something about the way she was looking at him made him aware that her question was loaded with subtext.

"Hermione," he said weakly. "What are you-"

"You _know_ what, Draco. Don't pretend not to know why Daphne has been glaring at me all week. It's because her sister is crazy for you, and it's pretty plain that- that I _like_ you in that way, alright? I like your stupid pale inbred face and the way you doodle on your notes in lessons and your ridiculous obsession with collecting quidditch memorabilia and I _know_ there's something here, but whenever we get too close you freeze on me. Is it… It is because I'm muggleborn?" she asked, eyes downcast. "After everything?"

Draco had always lashed out when he was afraid.

"Don't be stupid, Granger." he said, mouth turning up in a sneer. She looked shocked to hear her surname from his lips, and to see that once-familiar expression return. "It's not about that at all. What would Potter think, to see you with a cowardly, cringing failure of a Death Eater?" he stood, and began to fold away the telescope. "I couldn't even get being the bad guy right, could I? I couldn't keep my family safe, I couldn't even get past my own pride and ask Professor Snape for help when that monster wanted me to kill my own headteacher, I couldn't do anything when my teachers and my classmates were being tortured right in front of me in my own house!" he snatched up his charts and papers, stuffing them into his bag. "So what does that make me Granger? Does it make me someone remotely worthy of you?"

He tried to shake away the hand she placed on his wrist but she wouldn't let go. He searched her face, desperately needing her to hate him, to get what he deserved.

"It makes you Draco Malfoy," she said, standing. Her eyes were narrowed now, her mouth a firm line. He tried to back away but she grabbed his other wrist too, pulling him in and planting a kiss on his lips. "It makes you a hell of a different person than you were eight or even two years ago." she said, punctuating this with another, more lingering kiss. "And if you can stop your fucking pity party for yourself for five minutes and forgive yourself, I think it might make you somebody I could love, okay?"

Draco's head was spinning from her onslaught, but he knew that that point of balance was gone, that he had stumbled and fallen. He kissed her then, their tongues met and somehow they tumbled to the grass, mouths sliding together hungrily.

It was several minutes before Draco pulled away, looking at her in the moonlight with her hair all tangled, her mouth kiss-swollen and smiling. He tried to drink her in, to file away every detail of this moment.

"Okay." he said.


End file.
